Alas for Impropriety
by Yvi
Summary: [Wicked, bookverse] It isn't easy rooming with the Wicked Witch of the West. ElphabaGalinda


**Disclaimer: **L. Frank Baum introduced the characters, Gregory Maguire introduced the situation. I'm just refining it a little bit.

**Notes: **So, um, I seem to have written angry sex. And catfighting. Neither of which I've written much of in the past. The dynamic between these two can go off in all sorts of directions, so heaven knows why I chose this one, but there you have it.

As far as Elphaba and liquid are concerned, I'm afraid I'm going to be as vague as Maguire was himself. Evidently she can't take tears, but blood (after biting the midwife's finger, and after Fiyero's demise) and saliva (she sucks on her toys and chews on herself as a child, and apparently has no trouble accepting kisses) are fine, as is ingesting products that contain water.

Oh, and if anyone wonders just where Ama Clutch is during all this, I don't know either…assume it's a night out, or that she's socializing or cooking or shopping or snogging Ama Vimp.

I apologize if I've bruised anyone's brain too badly with that last suggestion.

* * *

One of the few guiding principles Galinda took seriously was the power of accessorizing. She knew that a plain dress could be salvaged by the right sash or necklace, a plain chair could be rescued by a few velvet cushions, and that almost any object in decline could be passed off as a valuable antique instead. She could not, however, drop a doily over her roommate and call it a success. As a result, her half of the room was impeccably decorated, but she rarely had anyone over on account of her roomie's apparently perennial presence, so it became something of a waste.

Accessorizing was a longtime habit of Galinda's. When bored, she would survey whatever people or things happened to be near and contemplate how one might go about improving them. More and more frequently, however, her roommate would become the subject of such ruminations whether she was nearby or not. Although Galinda resented the persistence of that particular daydream, she had to admit the girl was almost too easy a target.

For Elphaba didn't care at all for such things, as far as Galinda could determine, which she herself found somewhat senseless. No one was ever harmed by acquiring an appreciation for decoration, and if her ascetic roomie would at least attempt to make an effort with herself, she might very well manage to appear exotic instead of sickly. During dull classes or droning conversations, various possibilities for amelioration would wander into Galinda's head. If Elphaba would ornament her hair, or perhaps try curling it, then her severe face would be sure to lend it a far more striking appearance, and if she would at least wear dresses that fit and shoes that were made for _girls_… And Galinda hated herself for it, but she would sometimes find herself staring at the strange girl, absorbing the way she twisted her incongruously gleaming hair, the way the dark lips parted on the rare occasions she spoke or ate, all the while mentally running through her laundry list of ways to turn a plain person into a pretty one. And, over and over again, she would force her mind to stop wandering and go back to harboring the same veiled resentment towards Elphaba as ever.

Other times, resentment was the easiest thing in the world to attain, particularly regarding separation. Every now and then, Elphaba left for the library and Galinda would hold brief gatherings that lasted scarcely long enough for her friends to glimpse her impressive decor, but even these were few and far between. After considering the matter thoroughly, she lowered her pride and lifted her chin and asked if Miss Elphaba would mind vacating the room the next evening so she could entertain a few guests after supper.

Elphaba grunted and turned a page, which Galinda took as an affirmative response.

They did not speak again until after classes the following day, when Galinda, not looking up from the tabletop she was arranging, announced, "Don't forget, Miss Elphaba, that I'm having company over tonight."

Folded into her chair, Elphaba shrugged and replied, "I won't be a bother," which caused Galinda to turn around in alarm.

"You said yesterday that you would leave," she burst out stupidly, unthinkingly.

"I don't believe I did."

"That was the implication you gave," Galinda retorted, slapping herself inwardly for noting the graceful slant of her roommate's eyebrow as she lifted it slightly.

"Then I apologize for any misconceptions," Elphaba answered, a little too impassive to be sincere. "Although I might mention you never saw fit to clarify a thing for yourself."

Galinda wasn't about to admit she had a point, and instead suggested, as kindly as she was able, that Elphaba go to the library instead.

Calmly, and still focused on the book she held, Elphaba replied, "Tonight, I would rather not, as this is my room as well, and I think I will stay in and study."

"Well, this is perfect, then! The library is excellent for studying," ­Galinda exclaimed with deliberate enthusiasm. In addition to her other skills, she was well acquainted with the methods of turning an awkward and circular argument completely around with the right application of platitudes. "You'd be much better off there as far as concentration and accomplishment go, don't you think?"

Elphaba, of course, was immune to platitudes. "I think also, Miss Galinda, that I will go to bed early and not care to make the trek outside beforehand."

"Then go to sleep," Galinda said sharply, half-hoping Elphaba would immediately get up and do just that, preferably thoroughly covering herself in blankets in the process.

But the other girl had started to burrow back into her book. ­"I need to study."

Galinda sighed, restraining an urge to snatch the book from her roommate's hands and hurl it across the room. ­"We don't have class again until next week, and I've already told people they could come over," she blurted out with unabashed plaintiveness.

­Elphaba's strange gray lips twisted, and Galinda caught herself before she could begin wondering how rouge would take to them. "I'm not certain what sort of treatment you're accustomed to, and I don't care to know, but you cannot expect me to drop everything and scamper off simply so you can have a tea party. Even though," she added with a smirk, "it's a tea party that apparently has the potential to be destroyed by my mere presence, which I suppose I could find perversely flattering. The fact still remains that I live here, and I'd rather not have to drag all my books to the library again."

­"Then go for a walk, go downtown, do _something; _you don't need to study right this instant."

"And you won't wither and wilt into oblivion if you can't have company right this instant." Elphaba was eyeing her as though she was rather disappointed by this fact.

­Galinda­ frowned, unwilling to admit she had neglected to inform any of her friends who her roommate was. "It will be uncomfortable," she said defiantly, "to have another person in the room, even if all you choose to do is read. Maybe you never learned consideration growing up amongst Quadlings, but I would do the same for you."

"I've already made it known I won't be a bother," said Elphaba rather testily, although Galinda noticed she finally set the book aside.

This was getting idiotic. Having exhausted every tactic she could think of, Galinda balled her hands into fists and surrendered any semblance of politeness. ­"I hate you!"

The green girl unbent herself and rose, tall and terrible, angular body swamped in a shapeless shift. Galinda would not touch her, and she stepped back when Elphaba approached as if the other girl carried a contagious disease.

"Do you think I enjoy rooming with you?" Elphaba inquired, almost conversationally.

Collecting herself, Galinda drew herself up to her full height. "Do you think I like leaving all the time to socialize, never spending much time in my own room because _you_ always seem to be in it? It certainly wasn't my choice, you know. If my Ama…"

"…hadn't stepped on a rusty nail, you'd be free to giggle and gallivant with the other ninnies all you like and you wouldn't have had to stay with such a bilious scrap of a creature to begin with," Elphaba finished sardonically. "I've heard you tell the story more than enough by now."

"I never asked for any of this to happen," Galinda hissed, "and I certainly don't need the past parroted back to me with your own maudlin additions."

Elphaba shook her head scornfully, teeth bared in disgust, the curtain of hair falling forward. In spite of herself, Galinda found her fingertips itching to feel it, and she nearly shrieked in utter frustration. Within the space of a single second she managed to attempt to tell herself this was _not_ a good time for pondering beautification, and then irrationally conclude that, with her ringlets and ruffles bobbing indignantly, she probably resembled a nursery rhyme character gone awry and was therefore obligated to­ overcompensate for her lack of physical intimidation. Moreover, the opportunity to both shut up her subconscious and gain the upper hand was presenting itself quite flagrantly. All thoughts of grandeur and maturity forgotten, she let this absurd train of thought take over. Galinda dived her hand into the jet-black sheet and pulled as hard as she could.

It was as soft and smooth and glossy as it looked, and Galinda had only a moment of triumph before Elphaba, who had obviously never considered that her roommate might attempt physical contact, leaped back with a strangled yelp. The movement, having failed to disengage the smaller girl's hand from her hair, served only to amplify its presence, and the tall girl reacted accordingly. When Elphaba flailed out with one arm and caught Galinda on the shoulder, the latter nearly opened her fist out of sheer shock. They were hardly well-suited for each other, but she had never imagined they might come to blows.

"I hate you," Galinda screeched again, not caring that her voice was breaking and her eyes were watering and she sounded about four years old. "_I hate you_."

Elphaba was cursing; her face had snapped shut like a trap, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed into slits. Furious and raw-boned and wild, far from beautiful and, yes, _green, _some logical wisp of thought sang out in the back of Galinda's mind, but her roommate's hair was still tangled around her wrist and logic at large had long since fled with its tail between its legs. Galinda pulled again, deliberately this time, her other hand flying up to roughly clasp the back of the dark head, and there it was before she had a chance to think twice, the bizarre green face on level with her own, flashing eyes meeting her own, lips mashing together inelegantly.

One expensive taper-heeled shoe collapsed on its side as a well-turned ankle buckled, it's owner's bravado momentarily broken. Galinda's hand crashed down on the table, seeking balance, and sent a glass flying against the wall. Dazedly, Galinda decided the sound of the breaking glass could very well echo the sound of her own poised and polished life shattering and gasping a final breath before sinking into the marshlands of Elphaba's influence. Metaphor, thankfully, quickly fled after logic when Elphaba slung an arm around Galinda's waist and demanded in a low voice, "What the hell are you trying to do?"

There was no time to answer before one green hand clamped down on a cluster of gold tendrils, and it was Galinda's head that was pulled back this time and Elphaba was kissing _her. _The only half-sensible thought that made it into Galinda's mind then was whether Elphaba's tongue was green too, though she knew full well it was as pink as her own.

­"_Damn_ it," Galinda swore, stumbling forward when Elphaba released her, sending them both toppling into Elphaba's chair. The book Elphaba had discarded earlier fell to the floor, and Galinda noticed with vague satisfaction that her roomie did not appear to notice. ­There was hardly enough room for them both; Elphaba's leg was bent awkwardly over one of the chair's arms, and Galinda's hoops obstructed her path as she essayed to climb onto the other girl's lap. The best she could do was lean against her and brace her knees against the seat, not sparing a thought for her stockings. When Elphaba exhaled in frustration and shoved them both to their feet, Galinda frantically began tugging at ribbons and laces until the hoops could be abandoned altogether, peeling the abused stockings from her legs with the assistance of two other hands that did more harm than good. Nothing was left then but the over-frilly petticoats Elphaba crumpled between her bony fingers when Galinda began scrabbling at the other girl's neckline, pulling at the drab fabric until Elphaba relented and allowed it to be tugged over her head.

She stood there, looking stranger and scrawnier than ever in an equally unadorned underdress. She tilted her head towards Galinda, defiantly, and when Galinda met her gaze evenly, pulled the slighter girl forward, breath rasping against her ear, green hands in pale hair, white teeth on pale skin. "How do you get _out_ of this," Elphaba muttered at one point, nimbly undoing a row of buttons on Galinda's bodice and drawing back the cloth only to be faced with another. Eventually, she remedied it in her own fashion and promptly gave the other girl a less-than-gentle shove backwards.

The backs of Galinda's knees, upon contacting the footboard of her bed, obligingly bent until she was looking up at the ceiling, which was itself quickly obstructed by her roommate's sharp face and hanging hair. Slim hands were batting aside frills and buttons impatiently, and then the lace of her hemline was brushing her chin and long green fingers were creeping ivy-like up her legs. Galinda couldn't have said afterward what she saw or said or heard at all, only that Lurline's name might have been mentioned once or twice and Elphaba's name almost certainly more than that. Occasionally, when she was lucid enough to process the odd thought or two, uninvited attacks of conscience went flying through her mind, one after the other.

_This is not what you are sent to school for...three-year fellowship to Shiz...the entire town present for the departure...first girl from the Pertha Hills to ever be accepted. Dazzle your countrymen, milk your opportunity for all it's worth, make your mark, and _not_ by biting down on your damned green roommate's neck. _

But biting brought blood to the surface, making for a refreshingly normal-hued bruise, in addition to making Elphaba's breath quicken. So Galinda grinned against the faint curve of her roommate's waist and did it again.

* * *

"You _ripped_ it," Galinda said accusingly, surveying the bodice.

Elphaba lifted one shoulder and yawned. "It's no fault of mine that you have to tie and button yourself into so much. Is that some sort of misguided defense mechanism of the upper classes? It's always seemed so unnecessarily constricting to me; I can't imagine how long it normally takes to get it all off."

"I can have Ama Clutch mend it, I suppose," Galinda murmured, continuing to examine it as Elphaba adjusted her own dress, picked up her book, and situated herself once more in the chair across the room.

"By the by," the green girl added, finding her place, "I'm still studying tonight."


End file.
